Bloody Vision
by We're Such Derps BD
Summary: Matthew is fed up with everyone he knows. He can't even get reconized by his own relatives! Extremely angered one night, he goes on a rampage, targeting his own brother and his people, Alfred. From there, everything suddenly rolls downhill for everyone. Read to find out what happens! *Warning: Contains gore and blood, and cursing. It gets worse as you read. READ AT OWN RISK!*


Invisible

The hard freezing floor was painted and littered with pools of dried old crimson blood. Alfred F. Jones was bound with us hands to his back, and tied firmly to a chair he sat upon. Sweat heavily dripped down his forehead, and crashed down to the slightly red tiled floor.

_Drip._

_**Drip.**_

The room's lighting was extremely dark. It was really hard to make out the various tools that scattered across the floor and on a large round table.

But he imagined.

Alfred imagined pliers, so **he** could pull out each of his teeth, one by one, and leave him with numb, bloodied gums. Alfred imagined scissors, so **he** could snip off his tongue, so he couldn't scream for mercy as he slaughtered him slowly. Alfred imagined, and imagined. He didn't know who kidnapped him in the middle of the night. He could only guess who covered his face with a bag, and smacked him upside the head with a hard object. Was it North Korea? He had a grudge against America, so maybe it was him? Or what about Cuba? He's always hated America with a burning passion from the start.

After a few minutes, Alfred didn't have to guess anymore.

The light, wooden door creaked open slowly, revealing a silhouette of a man. As the mysterious man became more clear, Alfred froze in utter shock.

Matthew. His own brother.

He was smiling innocently, and clenching a medium sized butcher knife behind his back. As Matthew closed the door behind him and locked it, Alfred's breath silenced. It went dark again.

His brother? No, his brother was way too innocent!

_Right?_

Usually, Alfred would immediately scream at the one that keeping him captive to let him go, in this situation. But he really had to think before opening his mouth, this time. Because, if there's a little, fragile move that turns incorrect, Matthew could simply gut him like a fish. All Alfred could do was watch his own brother raise the knife from behind his back, and slowly stride towards him. Alfred panicked inside his head, frozen in the spot. He could barely do anything with his hands bound, and after a very short time, Matthew was staring over him with the knife.

The Canadian grinned wickedly, and spoke in his usual low volumed voice.

"Bonjour, Bro. How are you?"

Alfred answered him with the sweet voice of complete silence.

The worst thing to do was reply to him, right? He had always seen this kind of thing in a lot of movies, and the best thing to do was always keep silent. Matthew awaited for an answer, and received nothing. He stood over Al silently.

_**Drip.**_

_**Drip.**_

With no official warning, Matthew grabbed Alfred's collar, and got closer to his face, screaming in a surprisingly loud voice.

"**What's the matter!? **_**CAN'T YOU SEE ME!?"**_

Alfred's eyes widened as he looked his angered brother directly in the eye. They were a solid dark purple, unlike the regular light violet they usually were. Alfred let out a grunt, and refused to say a word.

Until Matthew had enough of it.

Matt thrashed the knife at Alfred's stomach, cutting into his fat, fleshy pink skin. He let out a gasp, and choked for his own air, blood bubbling in his throat, and exiting down the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin. Matthew took out the ''tool'' out slowly, stringing out crimson blood from the wound and staining the blade.

"**TALK,**_** YOU IDIOT**_**!" **He screamed violently at Alfred.

Alfred coughed, and more red streamed out of his mouth, and on to the floor. He had to talk, now. Now it wasn't a choice. Alfred knew if he didn't start talking again soon, his brother would stab him again, and it would get harder and harder to speak until he eventually would pass out or even die. Through the blood cluttering his throat, Alfred croaked out in a strained voice.

"I.. See you.."

"About time." Matthew whispered to Alfred, his grin transforming into a neutral frown. He clenched the bloodied knife in his hand even harder. Why would he do this? His own _brother! _Sure, he hasn't always acknowledged him, and maybe took advantage him a _few _times, but he was still his brother! Alfred trembled heavily in his chair, the bindings on his wrists began to sting him as he struggled to break them. He failed, of course. Matthew smiled at Al's attempt, then broke out in a small, adorable chuckle. What would seem innocent, terrified Alfred to absolute bits. Al looked down at the floor, refusing to look at the Canadian any longer. It felt dead inside of him as blood flowed out his stomach, but not only because of that. Because it was his own little brother that would be his death. It hurt so much to face that reality, and oh, how hard it slammed into him.

Tears started to form at the edge of the American's eyes, and quickly fell down his cheeks. He saw the shadow of the Canadian's. It looked like the arm that held the knife extended, and rose into the air, and he knew death was coming to meet him.

America's final words, slipped out his mouth so care free, so smooth. And he smiled lightly.  
**"I'll remember you in **_**hell**_, **brother.."**

And like that. With only one stroke of his arm, the knife split into the American's head, blood slightly rising in the air from the impact. Then it flowed. It flowed down Alfred's blonde hair, and dripped.

No one would've ever expected how it would've happened. Maybe from World War 3, or maybe from a nuclear impact.

But just as simple as that,

It was the end of the great superpower America.


End file.
